Accidentally Tasha

Chapter 8

Quote

The two most common elements on this earth are hydrogen and stupidity

When Jake said that no one would pay attention to me, he wasn't kidding. For the first time in two weeks, I feel like Julia again. No words could describe my happiness. Jake and his band have been rehearsing nonstop since we got here. It's hard to imagine Jake being serious about anything, but I can see that music is a serious thing to him. I wish mom and dad could see his passion like I do. I can see how his eyes light up when he is on stage, how his entire being is transformed when he is singing. He is a born performer.

At around five pm the band breaks off for the day. Jake gestures for me to walk over to him which I do.

"We're headed to a party but I'm taking you back home first." He says.

"No."

"I'm not in the mood to deal with your stubbornness, Tasha."

"And I'm not in the mood to be stubborn, but you're forcing me to." I look at him straight in the eye to let him know I'm not backing down.

After a few moments of silence, Jake runs his hands through his hair in a frustrated manner and lets out a sigh.

"Okay, fine. But I'm taking you back home by eight." He concedes.

"Thank you dear brother." I grin at him.

He shoots me a look that says he is not entirely happy with how things have turned out. I follow him out of the warehouse into his car. He drives in complete silence which is uncharacteristic of him. He then parks at the edge of the Crestshore forest.

I am completely absorbed in the scene before me. The sun sets in the horizon with all the grace of a queen descending. The clouds above are a beautiful shade of almost pink, which blends in with the now lit streetlights in perfect harmony. Crestshore really is a beautiful town; quaint to look at during the day and compelling, almost seductive, to look at during the night.

"Beautiful, huh?" Jake breathes.

"Yeah," I say.

After a moment I turn to Jake saying,

"Hey Jake, where's this...?"

To my complete shock, Jake is nowhere to be seen. I've been talking to the cute guy I'd seen in the prison cell yesterday. Ashton.

"... You're not Jake." I accuse.

"Guilty as charged." He grins.

Oh God. He is even sexier up close. His hair is so dark it reminds me of midnight. He has the tall lean frame of a tennis player, but his attire screams rock star from head to toe. He's worn a gray hoodie, dark jeans and worker boots. The twelve year old in me is screaming like Zac Efron just walked into the room and asked her out.

"Do you really have amnesia?"

"What?" I ask, offended.

"I think you heard me well enough." He says.

How he manages to ruin my mood with only one question is astonishing. I am immediately put on the defensive, a position I'll let you know, I do not like being in.

"No, I don't really have amnesia. I just managed to crack my skull and fool a bunch of doctors with degrees from Harvard not to mention my entire family into thinking that I am indeed an amnesiac." I say.

He smiles. The fool only smiles. By now I am seething in anger. I really did expect a spirited comeback to counter my sarcasm but no, he only smiles. Fortunately, Jake appears and calls out,